In These Arms
by SlashAddx
Summary: Stefan moved because he had an empty side of the bed for the past 15 years and he wanted company possibly more than his brother did. But it wasn't that easy now.


More love for episode 1x01, ya'll.

Inspiration: In These Arms by Swell Season

* * *

 _You were restless_

 _I was somewhere less secure_

 _So I went running to the road_

 _._

 _._

 _._

Stefan needed sleep. It was an exhausting day. Would have been even if it went exactly as planned. Another high school where he could start over, a girl who intrigued him enough to spend the night talking. But the parts he didn't plan, the surprise of learning the scent of Elena's blood, and the shock from the ghost of his past flying through the window just wrung him out further.

There was a reason Zach told him he didn't belong here, but why was it no one could tell him where he DID belong?

He tried to make it better; to make sure Damon knew he held no power over Stefan. He gave more of himself to Elena than he intended, just listening to her talk a few hours before he went home and curled into bed. No matter how long he tried to put off sleep though, it still claimed him.

The last tendrils of consciousness clung to him when the scratch of his door opening and soft rustle of clothing swished beside his bed. He opened one eye and looked up at Damon smirking down at him while he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Dude, move over."

"Oh hell no." Stefan groaned and pulled the pillow over his head.

Damon nudged at Stefan's shoulder with his knee. "Quit fucking around. I'm sleeping here tonight."

"You're what? No! Why? You have your own room." Pushing the pillow back under his head, Stefan snapped his elbows over his blankets and pinned them to his body. He glared up at his brother. "I threw you out a window. I thought you'd get the hint."

"Since when has that ever made a fucking difference?" Damon's eyes sparkled, highlighting his amusement and determination. Like the outcome was inevitable.

He had a point. Except their arguments didn't usually include being flung out of a second story window over a girl neither of them really knew, so Stefan had all the right to be pissed Damon goaded him into it.

"I left."

"You came back." Damon shrugged as his started unlatching his belt.

"You're not sleeping in my bed, Damon."

"Like hell I'm not. We both know you can't sleep alone, or you'll end up zombie crawling all over town and probably kill some kid because of your crappy diet. I just don't want that on my conscience." Damon's voice stayed calm enough to let Stefan know it wasn't a violent threat; he let his hand drift to Stefan's head and his fingertips brushed along Stefan's hairline. It seemed like a hesitation to run them through Stefan's hair like he used to do, but Stefan couldn't understand why Damon would want to now. Belatedly Damon's eyes fell to his own hand as he yanked it away. "Now move or I'll move you."

Stefan wanted to punch him. But he didn't argue. It didn't matter that Damon had his own room - or that there were six other rooms in the house. It didn't matter that it was Damon who couldn't sleep alone, or was at a higher risk to the neighborhood. It didn't even matter that they were still angry at each other. Stefan moved because he had an empty side of the bed for the past 15 years and he wanted company possibly more than his brother did. But it wasn't that easy now.

Instead he glared at his brother as he slid to the right. Damon's smirk softened as he pulled his clothes off till he was just in his navy boxer briefs. They hugged his strong thighs and trim waist and clung to his package. Stefan rolled over to face the far wall, not wanting to get caught staring. The air cooled his bare back as his brother pulled the blankets up and slid behind him.

Nothing happened for a minute. Just quiet breathing. Damon seemed content to stay on the far side of the bed. So why was Stefan disappointed? He pulled the blanket back up over his shoulder and squeezed his eyes shut. He would not think about the warm body in his bed. The completely off-limits warm body only inches away from him. He would not think about the completely beautiful and temperamental mind-fucker of an older brother who loved to hate him. It didn't work. He adjusted the pillow under his head and leaned slightly over, arching his back to the middle of the bed. It felt like dangling off the edge of a cliff. How close to the other side could Damon be? It didn't take long to figure out.

Damon made a quiet, comfortable "mm" sound as he settled.

The bed shifted and instead of dangling, he went soaring. He sighed as Damon's arm snaked around his waist and his skin was suddenly alive everywhere that his brother pressed against him. If there was an internal war of whether to accept this or not, it was brief. Chest touching back, legs brushing together. It wasn't close enough. Somehow Damon's hips weren't anywhere near touching him. Stefan wondered if that meant Damon was hard too. He hated wanting this. He didn't protest as Damon nuzzled the back of his neck.

"Stop thinking about it, little brother. Just sleep."

Stefan's breath hitched as Damon murmured against his back. He knew nothing would happen just then. He tried to relax and ignore the electricity sparking everywhere their skin touched. The warm wild scent of his brother saturated Stefan. The familiarity was almost luxurious. A comfort he had never forgotten about. He moved his arm down to where Damon's was wrapped around his waist. Too close than was good for him, but too far from where he wanted it. Fuck, but it was nice. His palm slid down the back of Damon's hand and he threaded their fingers tightly together. Damon increased his grip around Stefan, pulling them closer together.

This was the only apology for neglecting each other they could offer. It didn't mean the morning everything would be fixed. But for one night, they could turn off the pain and sleep.

A content sigh puffed against his ear as Stefan finally relaxed against Damon's chest. Not dangling, not soaring, but anchored down in the only place he'd ever belonged.

When Stefan's eyes opened in the morning, he felt completely and undeniably, wide awake. The other half of the bed was empty, but the scent and warmth lingering assured Stefan it wasn't a dream. Nothing was really different than it was yesterday, but with Damon back where Stefan could see him, smell him, maybe even touch him again, well, nothing was the same as yesterday either.

.

.

.

 _And so now there's_

 _A long list of places I was_

 _I quit my rambling and came home_

 _Cause maybe I was born to hold you in these arms_


End file.
